


No Devils On All Hallows' Eve

by Orlaiths_Star



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Coitus Interruptus, Demons, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Halloween, High Heels, Identity Reveal, M/M, Memory Loss, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pornalot, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Top Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Topping from the Bottom, incubus, sort of? I mean the vibe is there, very brief Merlin/other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orlaiths_Star/pseuds/Orlaiths_Star
Summary: Merlin loved the hunt. He especially loved it on this night. 'Halloween,' they called it.





	No Devils On All Hallows' Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Written for [Pornalot](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Pornalot_2018) bonus challenge #3 - Trick or Treat. This is the edited version of the original post on LJ (and since posting it's been revamped some).

Merlin loved the hunt. He especially loved it on this night. 'Halloween,' they called it.

Some things had never left him; he'd known the festivity by a different name once upon a time, and then another, with the rise of the new religion. Now a new era was flourishing, much to his delight, and the purpose behind the nighttime celebrations was much changed.

Merlin still loved a good, old-fashioned corruption when he could get his claws on it--that just went without saying--and he could still find a few pious souls to torment on this night if he felt so inclined. He was in no way bereft of his old forms of entertainment, and yet Merlin couldn't deny that the new twists on the once sacred, earthly tradition now benefited him in ways he never could have dreamed. 

Case in point, the young, beautiful, and hideously fortunate rarely invoked the protection of their gods and spirits in this day and age. While there was nothing quite like gorging himself on a hard won meal after a little standoff with one of his supposed antitheses, there was virtually no fuss to be had on that end now. Unless he went looking for it, of course, which on occasion he simply couldn't help himself. 

But on the whole, mankind was free for the taking, and not only that. Merlin had come to find that the contemporary human model spent more time courting mayhem, debauchery, and self-destruction than ever before--despite the defensive, enthusiastic diatribes he'd heard to the contrary. The way Merlin saw it, playing hard to get would be terribly rude. Wholly inconsiderate. A 'sin' even. Oh how humans loved their 'sins,' still.

Oh how Merlin loved his humans.

Perhaps the most exhilarating thing about this night in the modern era was that Merlin was free to walk among them just as he was, with no need to disguise his yellow eyes, webbed wings, black talons, or sharp-ended tail. Or his pointy "fangs," for that matter.

The fact that he could count on the majority of western civilization to be completely sloshed well before midnight also deserved an honorable mention. Yet, what Merlin adored most of all was how playing 'dress up' and thinking themselves disguised (however terribly) made members of the general populace lose even more of those pesky inhibitions of theirs. That fatal attraction to danger which forever had all nine circles singing accolades in their name never failed to shine through on this night. It lit up the world as the sun went down, and that was how Merlin knew his profits were sure to be bountiful.

All he had to do nowadays was prowl around in a pair of tight leather pants and black stiletto boots. He'd figured it out in '81. Or was it '82. Well, it was a few years after his return. That is, he'd figured out the wonders and ease afforded to him by the addition of one simple fashion accessory. 

Inspired by the times and the people around him, Merlin had realized a few things. For example, instead of hiding from the world, confining himself to shadows as he had in the past, it was well past time for him to be noticed. 

For that he'd needed a beacon. An advertisement. Something to ensure the kind of quarry he normally stalked all but fell into his lap. And now in the twenty first century, Merlin could afford to branch out past the same old boring cruise parks and clubs. He could also afford something a bit more noticeable than a flash of color in his back pocket--and if someone had a problem with it, he could turn their knife on them or kick their teeth in. Or have them for lunch. It depended on his mood.

Normally the ones he attracted took one look at his shiny, provocative footwear and wanted to dominate him till kingdom come, and unsurprisingly Merlin was not adverse to these ambitions. In fact, he had developed a taste for this type of "partner" in particular, or rather, their enthusiasm. He found himself thirsting after their lust, and he often fantasized, writhing with excitement and delight as he pictured the exact moment realization would dawn on their faces--realization that they were the ones at _his_ mercy, and it had never, at any point, been the other way around.

 

✦✧✦✧

 

Merlin sighed in contentment, letting his head hang forward for a moment in blessed stillness. Then he reanimated himself with a flourish, rising up on his knees to let the man's now limp cock slip from his wet and satisfied hole. He clambered off his third meal of the night. Well, this had just been a snack, really. Feeling energized nonetheless, he stood over the man's seemingly lifeless body, admiring his handy work while he did up his back zipper.

As if to acknowledge an end to the transaction, the body below gave a feeble twitch and moan. 

Merlin quirked his lips. "Thank you kindly, Sir. Much obliged." 

With that, he threw open the bedroom door--one of the house's many--and walked back into the fray, laughing to himself as he went.

 

✦✧✦✧

 

"How do you get them to move like that?"

Merlin looked down to regard a blonde adonis staring up at him critically, or at his wings rather, which he had been taking the opportunity to stretch.

After his latest shag, he'd felt the need for some fresh air. The house was a gigantic mansion owned by some rich prick and the ongoing party had it packed to the brim with loose, dancing bodies. On any other night, Merlin wouldn't be able to step away from such a mouthwatering buffet, but fortune had smiled upon him already this All Hallows Eve. He'd caught twice as much game at this hour as he had the previous night and, as a consequence, he was situated just on the outer edge of feeling unbearably horny. He gauged he had another hour or so before the need to feed became intolerable again, and from the look of things, these house guests weren't going anywhere. 

The night was still young, so he'd hopped up to crouch on the column of a stone wall that separated an enclosed garden from the rest of the property. He had just been admiring the view of it in the moonlight and enjoying the bite of crisp air against his skin when his solitude was interrupted.

The man was dressed as some sort of undead medieval king; he sported a blackened crown, a dark, shredded cape, and rusted chain mail. The fake blood running down his side wasn't a bad addition and surprisingly neither was the smudge of liner beneath his eyes.

The man was still waiting for an answer, hands on his hips, his mouth pulled to one side. Merlin smiled.

"Magic," he quipped, earning himself a soft snort.

Merlin took one more drag from his cigarette, savoring the smooth swirl and burn of chemicals in his nostrils and throat before smothering the dying butt against the stone between his heels. Then he jumped down from his perch and sidled up to the blonde. He wanted a closer look, and he didn't miss the heated way the man's eyes appraised him in return.

Dark eyes took their time traveling the length of him. Then they stopped at his feet--and there they stayed, fixated.

Merlin halted his advance, tutted inwardly, for that just wouldn't do. Then he turned his body, just enough for a three-quarters view, and proffered a leg for ease of examination.

He twirled his ankle at the man.

"You liking them?" He asked with cheeky grin, finally causing the man's eyes to snap up to his own.

The man's expression was closed off, almost rigid, and it seemed determined to remain that way. But then, after a moment, Merlin spied one corner of the man's mouth turn up, and his eyes sparked briefly with what looked to be amusement at Merlin's showing off. The heat in his gaze had rekindled, and, paired with that grin, it was much more appealing.

The incubus widened his smile in answer and stepped closer because, as for himself, he liked what he saw. He more than liked it.

Taking his usual liberties, Merlin wrapped his arms around the man's neck and pulled him close. "Want to get them off me?" he offered, pitching his voice low. He skimmed lips and heated breath over a sharp, smooth jaw line. Then he traced a delicate line up the shell of the man's ear with the tip of his tongue. Immediately, Merlin felt the blonde's energy flood with potent arousal, and a thrill ran through him; such a swift and charged response was rare for him to encounter up here. He breathed in the freshly spiked scent the man now radiated, a sharp and poignant mix of spice, an utterly divine cocktail that seemed tailor-made just for his taste. Merlin had to bite his own lip to keep from groaning. Oh, but this was going to be a _good_ one.

He pulled back to look into the man's eyes and was satisfied to see his pupils blown wide and barely lined by an edge of blue. Merlin's smile curled further. _'You're mine now, lovely,'_ he thought, taking giddy pleasure in the idea, perhaps a bit more than usual. Confident in what he knew to be true, Merlin released his hold on the man for the time being.

"Come on, then," he said, trailing a teasing hand down the man's arm as he pulled away. He wanted to take his time with this one, and he had just the place in mind to do it. He saw the man underneath him, spread on the lush red sheets of the decadent four-poster he'd spied in the master bedroom, looking a newly fallen sun god--brutalized, lost, and broken as Merlin wrenched every last drop of desire from the shattered mess he would make of him.Turning toward the lit up mansion of reverberating beats and purple fluorescent light, Merlin fully expected to be followed, but instead he found himself hauled backward.

"No," the man said, and then Merlin was being pushed, corralled, and he grunted in surprise when his back hit cool stone. The man took hold of Merlin's jaw and angled his face the way he wanted it. "Not inside," he said against Merlin's cheek, voice hushed and deep and curling warm tendrils around the base of his spine. "Not inside," he said again against Merlin's lips, and then took Merlin's mouth. The man set about showing Merlin just how he planned to rule him, first with wet, squelching thrusts of his tongue and then with a firm press of his hips against Merlin's. Altogether, his actions were a rebellion, a threat, and a tease. 

And when Merlin really wanted something, he did not like to be teased.

His shock worn off, he reached around and grabbed the man's arse, pulled him closer, harder against him. He bit at the man's plush lower lip in revenge and ground his hips forward, reveling in the feel of the man's full, hardened length rubbing against his thigh. A low groan slipped from the man's mouth, and suddenly warm fingers were threading into Merlin's hair, yanking, tugging backward then forward again, making Merlin gasp not from the pain but from the piquancy. The man used Merlin's temporarily slackened lips as an advantage to invade the furthest recesses of his mouth. Merlin allowed it, then he gave as good as he got, and all the while, he couldn't help but pray this man fucked just the way he kissed. He might just let the man think he was a true, risen king. At least for a bit longer than he usually liked. 

While his soon-to-be lover was distracted, Merlin let his tail creep over stone until it reached the metal lock of the barred gate. He enveloped the lock in his sawtoothed grasp and crushed it with ease, and then he was pushing and shoving his prize through to the other side. 

 

✦✧✦✧

 

The man snapped his hips forward with a well-aimed thrust and Merlin choked out a moan.

"Fuck, oh fuck--" He gripped the man's shoulders as his insides spasmed and clenched around the girth assailing them. He heard a grunt of agreement and Merlin whined, eyes fluttering shut as he was treated to a few more thrusts of the same vigorous caliber.

But then the man stalled. Again. His movements became unhurried. He rocked into Merlin slowly, lying over him like a large, placated jungle cat, one who was content to watch the smaller animal it had caught squirm fruitlessly in its grasp. For now.

Merlin writhed and shuddered. His prick lay on his belly, spent and satisfied from the bout of raw fucking they'd just had--the second--and yet he was nowhere near serenity.

His arse was sore and well-used, sensitive and tender, but the man wouldn't stop his shallow thrusts, and neither did he seem inclined to move faster. Rather, he seemed content to rub and stimulate Merlin's inner walls with slow slides of his cock, somehow managing to catch it against each sensitive spot and nerve until Merlin was grinding down, half-mad, and chasing elusive friction.

Another snap of hips. 

"Uhn!" Merlin threw his head back and braced himself, claws digging into earth and vegetation, letting the other know he was ready. But after that, nothing came.

Merlin bucked. "Fuck me," he demanded, a tremble in his voice, but the man only pushed Merlin's hips into the mud, held him still as he brought pink lips to hover above a peaked nipple. He kissed the nub softly. Then he flicked his eyes up to meet Merlin's and sucked the teat into the hot cavern of his mouth. He played his wet tongue over it until the nub was swollen and hard. Merlin jerked and moaned high in his throat and the man continued the slow grinding of his hips. An indeterminable time later, Merlin realized he'd stopped resisting the hands bruising him in favor of tangling his fingers in dirty blonde hair.

Blinking moisture from his lashes, he grasped the man's arms and tried to rear up on his elbows. It was far past the time he should have taken matters into his own hands; the man was tired if all he could do was torment him this way.

Disappointed, but not surprised, Merlin coiled and tensed his body in preparation, but then he stopped--because the blonde was smirking down at him now, eyes too cognizant, not at all fogged over and glazed like Merlin was used to. The faintest trickle of confusion and something else started to seep into Merlin's lust-addled brain, but then the man was rising to his knees. He knocked Merlin's hands away. Grasping his thighs, he used them to pull Merlin towards his body as he thrust forward, spearing his cock into Merlin's waiting heat. "Yes, yes.." Merlin let slip, breathy and frantic and with an appreciative rise of his hips. Their eyes locked again, but this time there was no mocking amusement looking back at him. As the man began fucking him deep and fast, Merlin's thoughts and ire dissipated. "Oh, oh, fuck, yes, fuck me harder--" he said, ignoring how it strained from him like a plea, and this time, the man complied. He reared up and pitched Merlin's knees over his shoulders, and Merlin had but a half breath to adjust to being folded before the man started boring into him.

All too soon he was once more drunk on the feeling of the man's hot, thick cock splitting him open, leaving him hollow and achy and then filling him to a point he almost couldn't bear. And the energy. Such delicious energy. Merlin felt as if he'd struck a well. It was wafting over him, through him, so good, and the incubus vaguely realized he was staring up at the one giving him sustenance with a rising devotion he couldn't fathom as his vision became ever harder to focus. For these reasons, Merlin closed his eyes, sought with his hands instead, kneaded them up a taut abdomen and then over a broad chest dusted with fine hair. But as the slap of flesh against flesh and the rising volume of his own shouts filled his ears, he realized one thing remained constant: the sound of the man's harsh but ever steady breathing.

And quite suddenly, Merlin couldn't stand to hear it. Needing to prove something, that he could addle and faze the man as much as he did Merlin, the incubus raked his claws over the very same flesh he had just caressed.

It didn't help.

The man gave a snarl and the very sound of it as it reverberated through the night air made Merlin's blood buzz pleasantly in his veins. He bared his neck but was unable to contemplate why he would do such a horrifying thing because the man had grasped his weeping cock with slick, unforgiving fingers and began stripping it again to full hardness. Merlin cried out in sweet torment as his body arched, strained, and begged for another release, not seeming to understand it was too soon, even for the likes of him.

Merlin didn't know if he was in rapture or agony. Quite possibly because he was hurdling toward delirium. Yet, somehow the thought that his partner should be lying spent and exhausted by now chose this moment to become blindingly evident. The man should be boneless and helpless as Merlin drew out the last drops of his pleasure, or at least he should no longer be this strong a participant. Even if there had been a handful over the years who hadn't tired as quickly, all humans were inevitably the same--easily overtaken, as wrapped up in their own pleasure as Merlin was in extracting it from them that, in the end, they were too overwhelmed to reciprocate in a manner that could satisfy him. He was often left wanting in more ways than one, totally focused on his partners' completion and release of energy so he could be on to the next. And then the next. And then the next. Truly he went through them like smokes these days, cheap and flavorless ones; one was never enough to satisfy his ever-growing appetite and now he'd be lucky if a handful did the trick.

But this. This was not that. This man was--he was not that. And he was not becoming helpless. He didn't even seem to be getting tired or near his end, while Merlin had spiraled fast and, to his shock, was spiraling again.

In fact, the man appeared not to be draining at all. He only seemed to be getting more invigorated while Merlin himself felt far too weak, even as he sucked up everything the man gave off; every single magnificent surge of sexual energy the man gifted him.

The feeling from before struggled to the surface of Merlin's mind. It gasped for life and shouted to be named, but Merlin just didn't have the wherewithal. Still, the feeling had Merlin seeking the man's eyes again, and when he found them this time, what he saw staring back at him violently ripped out the little oxygen that remained in his lungs.

Fear shot like lightning through the lustful fog in Merlin's head and illuminated the dark web that had been spun around him, and in the next second he was shoving and clawing and kicking with all his reserves until the man was no longer on top of him. Cursing, he scrambled away, or at least tried to. His burst of steam had been short-lived, and now it was apparent to Merlin just how very much had been taken. He could do little else than settle for trying to catch his breath as denial and horror had their way with him. 

_Shit._

_Shit._

How could he have been so _stupid?_

 _How could he have not noticed?_

'But you did notice,' his mind supplied unhelpfully, now that it was back online. And now that it was, Merlin couldn't argue. The vitality radiating from the man was unlike anything he had ever felt, but on his eager and steady course to being _A Total Idiot_ , he hadn't questioned the novelty. Much. It was inebriating, seductive, and swathed in it, he'd been content to carry on, blind to the fact his own life was being pulled from him. And yet, how could he have known it was happening? How, when it felt as if each cell in his body had decided to wake up and, altogether, they were reaching out and crying for this man in the biggest show of "Fuck You" to Merlin's self-preservation that he had ever witnessed?

To make matters extensively worse, the pleasure Merlin had experienced was more acute and satisfying than almost every drop he'd gleaned from the countless partners he was compelled to bed each night. Even now, Merlin was fighting not to pull the man back over him--even now that he knew this wasn't a man at all.

"Are you fucking insane?" he managed to yell instead. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The other demon only smirked at him, red eyes flashing with the energy he'd stolen. He smelled human, he looked human. He'd tasted like one too.

Merlin had been utterly fooled.

The blonde made a show of licking a long stripe of cum--Merlin's cum--from his hand before crawling forward. He fastened a grip on Merlin's shaky calf and made to draw him back under, but he stopped short when Merlin's tail shot up to rest against his jugular.

"Stop fucking around, you could get us both killed!" Merlin heard himself screech, and then tried to school the panic in his voice. "Bastard," he growled. "Just show me what you are!"

At this, the creature's smile fell away. His features settled into blankness and he regarded Merlin with a hollow expression. For a moment he remained entirely still, except for his grip on Merlin's leg, which had tightened to an almost painful degree. The whole bit was decidedly unnerving, and Merlin's wings hovered close over his shoulders, ready to shield him if the other should try something... unpleasant. 

"You really don't know me?" The Trickster asked.

Merlin said nothing. He only continued to glare balefully at the other, and after what seemed an eternity, the blonde closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he fixed Merlin with a look of derision that almost seemed.. fond. "Seven rotting hells, Merlin. You really have gone soft after all your time up here."

For some reason, the gibe and use of his name had Merlin's trepidation lessening, but he found himself hissing in displeasure all the same, now with a renewed desire to cut the blonde's throat.

He had no recollection as to why, but it was true that he had been cast out of Hell indefinitely. He was not even allowed return visits and that would always be a sore spot for him. Merlin didn't even want to know how this other incubus or demon or half-breed or whatever the hell he was knew that about him, how he'd tracked him down, or how he even knew Merlin's name for that matter. Clearly, this was all great fun for the other, and it was not the first time Merlin had been sought out by former meddlesome coinhabitants of the netherworld who had nothing better to do, just so they could take the piss.

This ploy had already taken its place at the top as the most humiliating of them all, however. By far.

"We're done here," Merlin growled and, with great effort, wrestled his leg from the other's grasp. Keeping his tail to the other's throat and one slanted eye on that insufferable smirk, he turned just slightly and managed to get to shaky knees.

Then a fist shot out and closed tightly around said tail--and pulled.

Unbalanced, sluggish, and caught off guard by the underhanded (and woefully unstylish) move, Merlin toppled, and before he could process it he found his face and chest shoved into the grass.

"Not so fast, Pet," the man said with amusement, keeping a firm hold on Merlin's barbed appendage, nevermind that his hand was now bleeding.

Merlin turned his head to spit dirt and start hurling curses, but the only sound that escaped his mouth was a bewildered moan when the man pulled on his tail again, hard, causing him to present his needy and abused hole. Two warm fingers circled his entrance and a shudder wracked Merlin's body before he was penetrated again in one swift motion to the knuckle. Merlin shouted and the man wasted no time, vigorously pumping the digits in and out of his slick channel, twisting and jabbing and seeking out his center with a maddening intent. Merlin found he could do nothing but claw at the ground and keen in senseless encouragement and half-formed words, unused to someone devoting their entire attention to his bodily pleasure with such single-minded focus. 

He felt the presence of the other looming over him again.

"I can help you, Merlin," the blonde breathed into his ear. "You were never meant for them. I can quench the thirst in you humans will never satiate."

A weak laugh managed to bubble out of Merlin's throat despite his harsh gasps and moans. "N-now I ... nghh!- know you're insane. You think I'll let you _drain_ me?"

It was true that gagging for it with every breath and never being fulfilled seemed a fate worse than death at times, but that didn't mean Merlin wanted to actually die. When incubi succumbed to one another it was always gruesome. Supposedly the pleasure was all-consuming and incredibly satisfying, and Merlin believed that now, but what was the point if one of them always ended up dead, the other barely alive? That is, if they were lucky. Or maybe, if they weren't. 

"Not to your death. That won't happen. I won't let it," his tormentor told him. "I'm nothing like you, Merlin. I'm not like any other," he assured as he nuzzled at Merlin's ear--as if saying something so pompous and ridiculous would make Merlin agree. "Besides, I do plan on keeping you this time."

Merlin's brow furrowed at that, but before he could retort, the man's fingers curled down and began rubbing over that singular spot inside of him that made his cock start oozing precum in helpless spurts and his belly flood with pleasure so acute it seared him from the inside out. Merlin moaned loud and ragged and reached back for the man's hip. He canted his hips in stuttering, feverish motions, unable to stop; he was still raw and primed from their earlier actions and now his build-up was happening fast. The man moaned in approval and thrust himself flush against Merlin's backside, his cock now rubbing teasingly against the sensitive underside of Merlin's own, but it was not enough to bring him over the edge just yet. Still, it was somehow too much, and for the first time in his shoddy memory, Merlin felt faint.

Little bursts of pain broke through when the blonde started biting at his neck and shoulder, as if to keep him grounded. "I've been searching far too long for you, Merlin," the other rasped. "I'm going to consume your body and soul, and by the end of tonight, you'll be swearing fealty to me again."

Despite the confusion and outrage the words incited in him, Merlin found himself pushing back on the blonde's fingers with mounting desperation, now fully on board for his intense, impending orgasm.

Still, he couldn't help himself, and over his shoulder, he spat, "Who do you think you are, the f-fucking De--ah!--Dev--ahh!--Devil?"

This time, the other bared his teeth when he smiled, seeming to find something particularly hilarious in Merlin's words.

"Not at all." He said, and then traced his own delicate line up the shell of Merlin's ear with his wicked, wicked tongue. "But I am his fucking son."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) I tried to do a bit of both Trick and Treat.. hopefully I managed. Any comments/kudos will be greatly appreciated and squeed over profusely!


End file.
